


The Woman at the End of My Bed

by dreaming_of_fae



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, Dissociation, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Mild Blood, Minor Character Death, Murder, Sick Character, Sort Of, basically the pov character does some murder but doesn't know what they're doing, implied demonic possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaming_of_fae/pseuds/dreaming_of_fae
Summary: When I woke with a headache, I thought nothing of it. I frequently suffered from migraines at the time, though I didn’t know the deeper meaning then. My body felt more than usually detached from my mind, but I dismissed it as another symptom of the headache, despite never having experienced that before.A short story about a person who didn't know any better.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	The Woman at the End of My Bed

When I woke with a headache, I thought nothing of it. I frequently suffered from migraines at the time, though I didn’t know the deeper meaning then. My body felt more than usually detached from my mind, but I dismissed it as another symptom of the headache, despite never having experienced that before.

I went to work as usual, and the day passed far quicker than normal. I would work, and glance up to read the time, which was 12, then work, and glance up once again, what felt like seconds later, but had turned out to be hours. I left for home, as I had worked for several hours longer than I was supposed to. 

I sat down on my couch, and watched TV for a couple of minutes while waiting for my ramen to heat up. These perfectly ordinary and mundane actions felt different than usual. I had done the same thing every night for 3 years, and yet tonight, of all ordinary, repetitive nights, was the night it didn’t feel right. I ate my ramen and went to bed, not wanting to think on the bizarrely normal occurrences of the day. 

When I woke, my head was spinning. I called in sick to work, and lay in bed all day, not wanting to move. I drifted in and out of consciousness through the day, not wanting to know what was real, and what was my mind’s creation. 

I saw many odd things that day. A large, greenish dog, a pool of water instead of my bed, but by far the most disturbing was the woman.

She was tall, and she wore a nun’s habit and a cross. She was pale, alarmingly so, and her skin seemed almost chalky. Her eyes were obscured by a veil, but I could see a faint light emanating from them. She stood at the end of my bed, never speaking or moving. She would appear and disappear, seemingly at random. 

I sat in bed, watching her watch me. If I looked at her too long, the spinning in my head returned, so I avoided her eyes. I drifted back off to sleep.

When I next woke up, I was sitting on the edge of my bed. My vision was hazy, the colours around me seemed wrong. I looked at me hands. They seemed far away, and there was a strange red liquid on them. I glanced up, the woman was still there. She was closer now, and her eyes seemed brighter. The corners of her mouth raised and as they did, parts of her cheek crumbled. 

I stood, feeling the ground underneath me move, and carefully made my way to the bathroom and washed my heads. When I returned, the woman was gone. I laid back down in bed, and went back to sleep.

I woke the next day feeling sick to my stomach. It was my day off, so I returned to sleep. I woke up, what felt like seconds later. I was in a store, and the people around me were staring at me. Someone had a phone out. Everything was foggy. I looked down, there was a person, on the floor. I saw my hands and torso, they were covered in that same liquid. So was the person. 

Abruptly I realized that the liquid was blood. How I didn’t realize earlier, I have no clue. The world seemed to be moving slowly, the colours smudging together. People were yelling, someone was crying. A person grabbed my arm, and I blacked out. 

I woke up in my bed, soaked in blood. The woman was sitting next to me, petting my hair, whispering something. I couldn’t understand what she was saying. Her eyes glowed so brightly it hurt to look at her. The nun’s habit was gone, in its place was a turtleneck. The cross remained. I went back to sleep.

I woke slowly. My body feels different, taller and thinner. I look down. I’m wearing a nun’s habit, and a cross. I look up. In front of me is a bed, with a sleeping person on it. I feel so hungry. I reach out.


End file.
